


That Racing Feeling

by Persiflage



Series: Johnson & Coulson Exchange 2k17 [17]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 3 times, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort Food, Established Relationship, F/M, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Inhumans (Marvel), Johnson & Coulson Exchange 2k17, Mentions of Mack/Elena, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Taking Care of Daisy is Canon, Pizza, Rescue Missions, Sexual Content, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Vehicles, Watchdogs (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:37:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9276341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Three times Daisy gives Phil a ride.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus fic for the Johnson & Coulson Exchange for the prompt: _Daisy/Coulson, their vehicles and car races ._ I didn't quite manage the car races bit, sorry...

**The Van**

"Give you a ride, mister?" Daisy asks, pulling her van up alongside Phil, who looks completely shocked to see her.

"Daisy. What are you doing here?" He glances up and down the deserted road, almost as if he expects a horde of agents from other agencies to descend on them, before staring at her.

"Pretty much the same thing as you," she tells him. "Though with more success."

He sighs heavily, then rubs his right hand over his face, wincing in obvious pain. "I could use a ride," he admits. "It's a long walk back to where I'm meant to meet Mack."

She nods. "Hop in, then." She reaches back and slides open the side door, and he climbs in with difficulty, which he tries to hide, then moves into the passenger seat.

She drives a couple of miles in a silence that's less awkward than she'd imagined it would be given this is their first meeting since she walked away from SHIELD more than six months ago.

"Where are you hurt?" she asks finally, pulling off the road and turning towards him.

"How did you know I was hurt?" he asks, his expression showing his surprise at the question.

She snorts softly. "You winced earlier, and – well – your vibrations. When someone's hurt it affects their vibrations."

His surprise melts into awe, and she can't help wondering what happened to his poker face. "It's my leg," he says.

"The same one I hurt?" she asks.

"You didn't hurt my leg, Daisy," he says gently. "That wasn't you."

She wants to argue, but decides to save her breath – arguing with Phil about her responsibility for her actions while she was Swayed by Hive is a waste of time as she discovered on several occasions before she walked away from SHIELD.

"Is it the same one?" she asks, and he nods. "Get in the back, then, and I'll see what I can do to help."

He gives her a quizzical look, then glances into the back of her van, his expression changing as he takes in the mattress topped with pillows and a sleeping bag, as well as the computer equipment. Then he moves carefully between their seats and crosses to the mattress. He sits on it, warily lowering himself down and stretching out both legs. She kneels beside him.

"I want to use my powers," she tells him. "Is that okay?"

He looks curious, but nods eagerly, and she gets him lean back on his arms. 

"Tell me if this makes things worse," she says, then holds both hands out flat, palms down, above his leg, and begins very carefully vibrating his muscles and bones – effectively giving his leg an internal massage.

He makes a startled noise, then his mouth drops open, and his expression becomes awed all over again. "That's amazing," he whispers, and she gives him an absent sort of smile, not wanting to take her concentration from her task.

Eventually she can sense, via his vibrations, when his leg is feeling better, and she lifts her hands away, then gives him a smile, albeit a weary one.

"Thank you," he says, his tone earnest and grateful.

"You're welcome," she tells him, and hides a wince of her own at the ache in her arms. She's startled when he sits up and clasps her shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. 

His cheek brushes hers and she forces herself not to respond by kissing him because that would be a monumentally bad idea – she wants nothing to lose, and kissing Phil will make her want him, which will give her something, or rather someone, to lose. (She refuses to admit he's the one thing she has left to lose.)

She carefully pulls herself out of his embrace, then gets up and moves back to the driver's seat. "Sorry Phil, but I have places to be."

He comes back to the passenger seat, but pauses long enough to squeeze her shoulder before he sits down. "It's okay, Daisy – I get it. Your time is very precious," he says softly, his tone and eyes sincere. "I know your work is very important." 

She starts the engine, then pulls onto the highway, not looking him in the eye. "Thanks," she says, and from the corner of her eye she sees him frown.

"For what?" 

"For taking my work seriously."

"Daisy," he says. "Your people are very important, and your fight against the Watchdogs – well, I wish you weren't fighting alone."

"Yeah, Phil, I know you do."

"I hope that if you ever need anything, you'll contact me and ask me," he says.

She bites her bottom lip, then nods. She doesn't tell him that she doesn't intend to ask for his help – she doesn't want to put him in any greater danger.

30 minutes later, she drops him off a block away from his rendezvous point, not wanting to risk seeing Mack as well.

"Thank you again," he says before he gets out of the van. "I really appreciate the assist. And I meant it about helping you, if I ever can." Then before she can respond, he leans in and presses his lips to her cheek, before quickly climbing out of the passenger seat. He doesn't look back as he walks away, and it takes Daisy an embarrassingly long time to get going again.

**The Scooter**

"Come on," Daisy says, grabbing Phil's hand. "Let's get out of here." She tugs, and is grateful when he moves with her.

"Where are we going?" he asks, his voice low and conspiratorial.

"Diner, coffee shop, pizza place," she says. "Whichever you fancy. I need fresh air and food."

She can tell he's a bit surprised by the suddenness of her decision to get out of the Playground but, being the best friend she's ever had, he willingly accompanies her as she leads him, still holding his hand she realises, down the hallways and into the hangar. 

"Aren't we taking an SUV?" he asks, sounding confused when she leads him in another direction.

She snorts. "No, Phil, we're not." She guides him into a dark corner, and he chuckles when he sees the motor scooter she'd used for the op when they stole that painting three years ago. She grabs the two helmets and, feeling mischievous, holds out the pink one. To her absolute delight, he accepts without demurral, and puts it on as she puts on the white one. She climbs onto the scooter, then starts the engine. 

"Hop on, then," she says, a little impatiently.

"I'm not sure I'll fit," he says, his expression sceptical.

"Of course you will," she retorts. "You're not Mack."

That makes him chuckle, then he climbs up behind her. And yes, it is a bit of a squeeze, but she doesn’t care – in fact, it feels great to have Phil's body pressed against her back, and his arms wrapped around her middle.

She drives out of the hangar a little faster than she should, and grins when she feels a sharp spike of pleasure in Phil's vibrations. His chin comes to rest on her shoulder, and if it wasn't for their helmets, his cheek would be pressed against hers, and she feels her own sharp pleasure at the thought.

"So where d'you want to go?" she shouts over the noise of the air rushing past them.

"Pizza place," he says. "And maybe we can grab ice creams afterwards."

"That's an excellent idea, Agent," she tells him, and although she can't hear his laughter, she can feel his body shake against hers, and it makes her even happier.

She eventually stops outside a pizza place on the far side of town, and they pull off their helmets, then climb off the scooter, and Daisy shivers a little at the loss of his body heat against her back. The air out here's chillier than she realised.

"Here," Phil says, and peels off his sweater.

"You'll get cold," she objects, though she's tempted to accept.

He shakes his head, then unfastens a button on his shirt to reveal he's wearing an undershirt. "I'll survive."

"Thanks," she says, and takes the sweater from him, pulling it on over her own sleeveless button down. It's still warm from his body and she can feel goosebumps on her arms that have nothing to do with the ambient temperature. "You're a sweetheart," she tells him, and presses a kiss to his cheek.

He smirks, then wraps his arm around her shoulders. "Let's get inside, shall we?"

She nods, and they make their way into the pizza parlour, and Daisy notices that his arm stays around her, but she makes no effort to disengage herself. She's noticed that he engages in a lot more casual touching since she came back to SHIELD – she's not sure if it's because he missed her so much (she knows he missed her, just as she missed him), if it's because he's no longer the Director, or if it's some other reason, but she likes it. 

They're led to a booth, and she's surprised but also pleased when he opts to share her bench rather than sitting opposite her, and as soon as they're both seated, he slips his left arm around her shoulders again. She leans into his shoulder, and he gently squeezes her upper arm.

"Okay?" he asks quietly.

"This is nice," she tells him, and slides her arm around him to hug him back.

"Yeah, it is." He grabs the laminated menu card with his free hand and sets it down in front of them. "What do you fancy?"

The word 'You' is on the tip of her tongue, but she bites her bottom lip, refraining from saying it. "Something meaty with a deep crust," she tells him, and he smirks. "What?"

"Are we gonna share, or have one each?"

"We could have some sides as well, then share the pizza," she suggests, thinking that it'd be more date-like to share. Not that this is a date, strictly speaking, but – She cuts off her rambling thoughts. "Garlic bread."

"Salad," he counters, then laughs when she rolls her eyes. "In addition to the garlic bread," he tells her, and she sighs dramatically, which makes him laugh even more, before she agrees.

He places their order a few minutes later, charming the waitress, because of course he does: not for nothing did she nickname him 'Charm School' all those years ago. No matter how much has changed since then (she gained her powers, and her parents, then lost them again; he became Director, then quit being Director, and lost his arm), he's still as charming as ever.

She's surprised when he doesn't start talking shop while they wait for their pizzas – instead, he begins telling her about having pizza with his parents when he was a child, before he lost his father. She tells him some stories about having pizza with foster parents – including the foster mother who insisted on vegetarian only pizzas with salad, and no 'junk food' of any sort.

"She also insisted we had diet sodas," Daisy recounts, and he pulls an expressive face.

"Way to take all the joy out of pizza," he says, and she chuckles a bit.

"Yeah. I've never eaten vegetarian pizza since."

"I'm not surprised!"

"And I had one foster father who made his own pizzas from scratch. He was Italian – his parents had come over here during the War – and he made it the traditional way. He used to let me watch."

Their food comes, and they dig in eagerly: Daisy had missed having lunch, and spent a chunk of the afternoon training with Mack and Elena so she's pretty hungry.

"You know, you could come and train with me and the others," she suggests when she finally slows down a bit.

He snorts. "Why would you want an old man like me to train with you?"

She elbows him in the ribs. "You're not an old man," she says firmly. "Old _er_ , but not old. And I've seen you on the field – you can hold your own." She eats a chunk of garlic bread. "Besides, it'd be good to have a fourth person."

He considers, chewing a forkful of salad. Then swallows. "Okay."

She grins, pleased that he's agreed so easily. "Good. 6am tomorrow then."

He splutters over his mouthful of soda, then gives her a truly horrified look. "Six?" he repeats incredulously, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

She chuckles. "Yeah, Phil, 6am."

He sighs heavily. "The things I do for you, Agent Johnson." His voice is low and his tone bitter, but she's not a bit fooled by him.

"Aw Phil, you know you love me really," she teases.

His expression turns quite serious. "I do," he agrees, and something about the intensity of his tone startles her.

"Phil?"

He takes a deep breath. "I love you, Daisy," he says quietly.

She swallows hard. "You love me – like a friend?" she asks, doubting that's what he means.

"No. I am in love with you. Have been for ages, actually." He gives her a gentle smile. "It's okay," he tells her. "I don't expect – " 

She cuts him off before he can tell her what he doesn't expect, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him towards her so she can kiss him. She's deeply grateful that they've both been eating garlic bread, although she suspects she wouldn't have let that stop her even if it wasn't the case. He moans into her mouth, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her back just as eagerly.

Eventually they have to pull apart to breathe, but she immediately wants to start kissing him again. She reminds herself they're in a public place and PDA are not something she wants to indulge in too much. She looks around, but fortunately no one is looking their way – and equally fortunately, their booth is at the back, so hopefully no one's spotted them.

"You realise we're totally gonna break SHIELD's anti-fraternisation rule, don't you?" she asks in a low voice. 

He snorts. "Says Daisy Johnson, former member of the Rising Tide."

That makes her giggle, and he smirks at her, clearly pleased by her reaction. "It's a stupid rule, anyway," she says, and he nods.

"And it's not like we're the only ones," he says, referring to Mack and Elena's relationship.

"True." She leans in and chastely presses her lips against his. "Shall we get out of here?" she suggests.

He nods. "Do you still want to get ice cream?"

She shakes her head. "The only thing I want right now, Phil, is you." 

His eyes go wide, although she's not sure why he's so surprised, then he leans in and kisses her a lot less chastely than she'd kissed him a few moments ago.

"Let's go," he says, and she nods sharply.

She drives them back to the base as fast as is consistent with safety, which doesn't feel anywhere near fast enough, and they leave the scooter and helmets in the hangar, then she leads the way swiftly through the hallways, carefully avoiding all the cameras – they'd had to badge in, of course, but there's no reason to be caught on camera as they make their way to Daisy's bunk. (She's in a different one to the one she had before she left, and she'd discovered it was larger, somewhat to her surprise.)

She ushers Phil inside, her hand on the small of his back, then slips in behind him, before she closes and locks the door. She grabs his left hand and leads him the short distance to the bed.

"I didn’t say it earlier," she says, "but I love you too, Phil Coulson."

He gives her a goofy smile, then wraps his arms around her, kissing her greedily; she hooks her leg behind his and topples them both onto the bed, then smirks at his obvious surprise. 

"Ready?" she asks, and he immediately reaches for the hem of his sweater.

"You better believe it," he says emphatically, and she lifts her arms, allowing him to pull his sweater off her.

This, she decides, is going to be good.

**The Car**

Daisy flies Lola over the spot where Phil, who'd got cut off from the rest of the team, is still battling three Watchdogs. "Climb aboard, soldier," she yells over the noise of Lola's thrusters, and he looks up, startled, just as Daisy leans over the side of the hovering car and blasts the other three men with her powers.

"C'mon Phil!" she cries. He's looking up at her with that ridiculously stupid adoration face he pulls whenever he thinks she's being awesome (which is pretty much every time they're on the field together, the dork), then he jumps over the body of one of the downed men, and runs across to where Daisy's hovering Lola.

"There're more coming," she tells him, "so quit fanboying and get in."

He chuckles, then scrambles into the passenger seat, then yelps a bit when Daisy shoots them skywards at a speed guaranteed to make him feel like he's left his stomach on the ground. She pulls Lola around in a loop, then makes her hover.

"I need you to take over driving – well, flying," she tells him urgently. "I'm gonna need both hands for that lot." She gestures down at the advancing pack of Watchdogs, some twenty or more men rushing towards the rest of the team.

"You want to switch places while Lola's in the air?" he asks disbelievingly.

"Do you want to waste time landing?" she asks sharply. "Or arguing?"

He shakes his head, his expression sheepish, then shifts towards the driver's seat as Daisy climbs backwards behind the seat, holding on tightly to it – sure she can use her powers to slow her fall if she were to fall out of Lola _this_ time, but that'd also be a waste of time. Phil awkwardly moves over into the driver's seat, and Daisy immediately drops into the passenger seat.

"Bring her in low, Phil," she tells him.

"Yes ma'am," he says smartly, and she shoots a quick grin at him, then focuses her attention back on the men below her.

Phil brings Lola in low, just as she asked, and she leans over the side door, both hands outstretched, and begins 'firing' her powers at the advancing Watchdogs, hitting them hard enough to knock them out as well as down. It takes two passes to get them all, there are so many, but they all go down, and she quickly calls May, asking her to bring in her team to do the clean up.

Phil flies Lola over to where Elena, Mack, Joey, and the rest of her little team of Inhumans and humans (Secret Warriors 2.0) are regrouping, and as soon as Lola's wheels touch down, she climbs out of the car, stumbling slightly from both the use of her powers and the beginning of her adrenaline drain, and hurries over to them.

"Is everyone okay?" she calls, and is relieved when everyone answers positively. "Good. Let's get back to the Z1. Debrief 90 minutes after we get in the air. Get something to eat, grab a shower, or whatever you need."

The others nod, and begin talking among themselves, and Daisy turns towards Lola, aware that she's wearier than she'd realised. Fortunately Phil's there to take her arm and lead her back to Lola, which saves her from planting her face on the ground at his feet. 

As soon as they're both back in Lola he opens her glove compartment and pulls out a pack of Little Debbie snack cakes. "Here," he says, his voice and expression soft and tender.

"Thanks," she says, and fumbles the pack open as he turns Lola around and begins driving them down the highway to the airfield where they left the Zephyr1. She manages to eat two snack cakes before her exhaustion catches up with her, and she falls asleep.

She wakes abruptly as Phil's driving Lola up the Z1's ramp. "God, sorry," she mutters thickly, then scrubs at her face.

"Don't apologise, Daisy," he tells her. "I don't mind. You did great work out there today, but it took its toll." 

"Yeah," she agrees wearily. "I just wish it wasn't so unrelenting.

He leans over and presses a kiss to her temple. "Me too," he whispers. "C'mon, let's get you inside. What do you want before the briefing – food, sleep, or a shower?" They climb out of Lola, and Daisy pauses to pat the car's hood affectionately before walking away on still-shaky legs.

"All three," she tells him, "but the sleep'll have to wait until after the briefing."

"Okay. Why don't you go and shower, and I'll get you something to eat?"

"Thanks, Phil." She turns and gives him a grateful kiss. "I couldn't do this without you, you know."

He smiles. "You'd manage," he tells her, his tone confident. "You did before."

"Barely," she tells him. "I'm glad I don't have to now though."

"Me too."

They make their way upstairs to the galley, where Phil gets her a cup of coffee, which she takes with her to the Director's cabin: it's still called that, although she and Phil are the only ones who use it as Mace rarely sets foot aboard the Z1 these days.

When she comes out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped turban-style around her wet hair, and a fluffy bathrobe wrapped around the rest of her, Phil is waiting for her, a tray of food sitting on the side.

"God, that smells good," she says, and he smiles.

"You look better," he says. "Brighter, and less worn."

She nods. "The shower helped, and the coffee. The food will help more. Thanks."

"Any time, Daisy," he says. "You should eat it before it gets cold."

She sinks onto the end of the bed, and he brings the tray over: 3 grilled cheese (his post-mission staple), a bowl of chicken noodle soup, and two more of the Little Debbie snack cakes. She presses a kiss to his cheek, then dives in, desperate for the fuel.

As soon as she's finished eating, he takes the tray away, setting it on the side again, then he asks, "What do you want to wear?"

"Jeans and a shirt'll do fine," she tells him. "No doubt the Director'll have a press conference organised for when we get back, but that's hours away." She sheds the bathrobe, then begins drying her hair, bending forward to rub it. She feels Phil's hand on her back as he moves behind her with her clothes, and she shivers a little when he draws his fingertips down her spine. She straightens back up, the towel draped around her neck, and raises a quizzical eyebrow at him. He smirks.

"Can't blame a guy," he tells her. "I wouldn't lust after you so much if you weren't so gorgeous, sexy, powerful – "

She cuts off any further descriptors by kissing him, one hand holding the back of his neck, as she pushes her tongue into his mouth. He makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat, his vibrations spiking with his desire, and she unfastens his pants, easing his already rampant erection free. She gives him a push so that he falls backwards onto the bed, then drops the towel from around her neck and climbs over him, straddling his crotch.

"Daisy," he groans, his hands clasping her hips as she sinks onto him. He fills and stretches her, and she leans down to nip at his bottom lip, then trails kisses along his jaw to nip at his earlobe. That elicits another groan, then he begins to thrust, and she moves with him, her muscles tight around him.

They come fast and hard, and she allows herself a moment to slump down on top of his body, enjoying it when he wraps his arms around her and snuggles her body against his. 

"Feeling better?" he asks, his breath hot on her ear.

"Much, thank you."

"Thank _you_ ," he says emphatically. "You know I always enjoy it when you get aggressive with me after a mission."

She chuckles quietly. Some people would probably think they're messed up, but if they are, she doesn't care: Phil Coulson is the best lover she's ever had – thoughtful, kind, supportive, generous. He believes in her and her mission, trusts her always to do the right thing, and knows she'll do everything in her power to keep her people safe from the likes of the Watchdogs. The fact that he's also sexy as hell, loves her to take charge, and only wants to make her happy is a bonus.

"I need to get dressed," she says, and rolls off him to lie sprawled naked beside him on the bed.

"We'll have time after the briefing," he reminds her. "As you said, we're hours away from the base."

"Mmm," she agrees. "Very well, Agent Coulson, it's a date."

He laughs softly, then tucks himself back away, before reaching down to retrieve the towel she'd been using to dry her hair. "Let me?" he asks, and she nods, then sits up, and he finishes rubbing her hair dry, then kneels on the floor to put her socks on as she pulls on her button down shirt.

As soon as she's dressed she leads the way back down to the command centre to await her team for their debriefing. This, she decides, is a pretty good life: kicking bad guys' butts, saving Inhumans, and loving and being loved by Phil Coulson. She knows he still wants her to become SHIELD's next Director, and she's begun to accept the idea, but it's a little way off just yet. For now she's happy with what she's got.


End file.
